After writing this (it was different and shorter) my sister told me I should inscribe myself in a madhouse and that my mind is perverted and twisted, what do you think?
Also try to figure out who the father son pair are before reaching the end!
All chapter is complete now, wait for next chapter.
Chapter 11
I was born to an ancient lineage, adept at managing certain products, born in a motherless family by tradition. Rightly called Hardhandealer, by our ancient peers, and the name stuck as our family one. When I was little that name signified nothing to me, the only thing I knew was my father, who raised me caringly, nothing was missing in my childhood where I was presented to our respectable profession, that of slavers.
As I was growing I saw how my father was delighted by his, so as I soon as I could I selected slaver as my profession, did not regret it then don't regret it now.
The approving look my father gave me when I gave him the news won't ever fade from my memory. Time passed and with the close tutelage from him I learned the right way to conduct our trade, how to check the health and quality from a slave, how to look for future prospect, and at the same time catch them, there were various ways, but to know them first I had to know of the types of slaves.
First came the poor, it could be anyone, one that joined voluntarily by offering their freedom in exchange of money, ones that were orphans and easily lured in our hands, and of course ones we catched by means of connections or by force.
Second came the variants, those were slaves since birth, the only difficulty in gaining their ownage was finding them, and of course buying them of their current owners, of course if the variant seemed expensive and of good quality we always could dispose of the owner, I never really knew why the variants were different from the rest, I always counted them as higher quality products and never cared about the overtone of why they were, they just were and are slaves at birth.
I remember once I asked why, my father just shrugged and said if I ever wanted to know, I wouldn't be a good slaver, because slaves problems don't matter, the only thing that matters is how much are we going to get from them.
First and second, could be found in the nine kingdom area, but the third and last category was fairly difficult, because one had to travel to the wilderness to find them.
And by law one cannot sell the being captured but had to keep it and sell its offspring. So in a way it was a long term business commitment. After raising the offspring a little until their childhood was over, then one could sell them and gain an enormous benefit, why was it so big?, thats because one first had to catch the being, if it did not reproduce asexually one had to find it a mate, this was done usually by an agreement between fellow slavers, because finding two of the same race was quite difficult, more if the race was particularly rare. After finally getting the slave to reproduce one had to actually pay to know how to raise them, and those bloody brokers asked for a whole lot of money to sell the information, of course one could buy the information from elsewhere, just… if you were found out, the consequences would be catastrophic, just to say if you and your entire direct family were killed, that punishment would be light.
After rising the offspring to at least to a certain age, one could finally sell them, by another annoying law each and every race had a specific age when one could begin selling them, if you ask my father that is actually a huge disappointment because by his word and actually his favorite phrase which I only could understand after I turned thirteen, the childhood is the tenderest age.
Back on topic my family earnestly invested in the first and second category, and we actually gained a huge profit, I did not know why, until My thirteenth birthday.
Late at night my father ask me to come with him, to show me my birthday gift, we went down the basement, where the cellar and some rare variant we owned were locked in their respectives cells.
I did not usually came down here, but my father insisted earnestly to come with him, after coming a certain distance in a corner of the room and after pulling an unsuspicious torch, an aperture opened.
I was quite surprised I didn't know about this, we walked in the dark passage that was slowly being light up by torches magically enchanted to when a person approached them.
After a brief walk, we arrived in a square shaped room where my father poured some magic in a magic array, making the floor open in half and a old wooden lift appeared.
My father signaled for me to stand besides him on the left, and with a little more puring we descended in the darkness, only to be surprised by the view, the grandiose and magnificent view and sounds of hundreds of slaves being tortured under the unshielding hands of their captors.
After looking a little more I notice the people playing the torturer roles were of course were nobles and upper echelons of the kingdom, and i realised where the money came from.
I looked at my father and a sense of pride could be seen on his face. After arriving on a stone platform, we found ourselves surrounded by the opulence of sculptures depícting incredibles feat of torture, I recognized several of them as my forefathers and one of them of my father, mutilating a small kid, and thats when I knew the meaning of my father’s favorite phrase.
“Come” my father said, “Let me teach you all about our magnanimous profession”.
He then lead me to several of the nobles, introducing them to me, letting them know that in the future I would be their host, he also asked them to teach me several techniques they developed, they first were reserved about them, but when they saw me earnestly learning they softened and letting me participate, correcting my technique with each mistake i made.
That very day, I got the torturer profession.
After I told my father the only thing he could be was genius, and he said it repeatedly, I was very proud of myself.
While muttering how proud he was of me he led me to a different stone cubicle, laying on a table was a sleeping boy, no much older than me, I dare say he was the same age as me and that of course was made on purpose by my father.
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The first thing the nobles taught me, was how to tie them up, this had to be done carefully as to not make any mistake, if you did and the slave escaped it would be disastrous.
After making sure the blinds were tight and could not be untied, came to time to wake up the future tortured, how the nobles including my father usually called their victims.
He woke up after some burns to his tights were made, of course with a scream.
His continuous begings and swearings while I tortured him were like songs to my ears, and more when I added my torturers abilities to my repertoire.
After four hours of continuous hours he lost consciousness. That signals the job of the day was done, and I knew a long week of torture marathons was waiting for me, more than feeling apprehensive to that I feel quite excited.
When I looked back I saw my father who gestured an approving nod with his head and his widely characteristic smile.
On the way back he told me my mistakes and how to fix them in addition to suggestion for future sessions.
Along the week my father came with me, in his word it was merely to instruct me, but I knew better, he obviously wanted to torture some tender meat not far from my cubicle.
By the end of the week a group of tortures were watching how I finished my torture, when it all ended a loud cheer could be heard.
With time I became acquainted with all our clients, and they in exchange taught me multitude of different techniques.
I found out only our family and a few selected in other kingdoms owned the Tortured chambers. So in total Nine places like this. And of course the grand chamber of Brehogues, the biggest and of course lost chamber of torture, lost would be wrong, because everyone knew where it was, sadly no one knows how to open it.
Time passed by, torture became a hobby to me, with torture tough and stressful weeks could be a breeze with a torture session every two days, which I found out makes the tortured panic not knowing when I would go back.
Days bacame week, week years, until today, today changed everything. My father had been frequenting the not so poor district, intending on buying a variable.
He offered to come with him, but I said I would keep looking for some future prospects while he did his business, I knew he and I would be safe, because we never left our mansion without our guards. I was wrong, so wrong.
Screams were heard, and a giant man was struggling to enter the shop my father went to aquire a new slave. The entrance was clouded with a black impregnable and impenetrable black fog.
Nothing could be heard from the inside, so me and my guards approached as close as we could while leting the patrol of local guards restrain the man.
Not too late agonizing screams could be heard from the inside, fearing for my father’s life I instructed my guards to break down the barrier, but no matter how strong they hit their weapons against it, nothing could be done.
At least fifteen minutes later, the fog rescinded, and the gore could be seen in all its splendor, I was attracted to it until I saw my father’s body burned and mangled forming words that made me pop a vein in my forehead. “The cleansing of the elven Kingdom has begun”.
In that moment I swore to find the culprit lock him, and torture his family and friends in front of him making them go mad and lose the hope in their eyes while watching him or her.
But first I have to wait until all cools down to finish my father last job.I think while watching the burly man hug a woman and strangely a slave.
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I see shadows, depicting a sad story. First I see a couple, that grew up together, finally having a son, becoming a family, owning a house, celebrating the baby’s first birthday. Then it all became bleak, an abominable man wrecking the picture with slashes of its knife. The child losing its parents, no family to care for him,he went to a place, where hundreds of other in the same situation reside.
His life was uneventful, filled with sorrow at not remembering his parents, with his inability to get friends, and obstratised for being a lonely person. The only thing that saved his mind where books, where he could submerge himself in the fantasy stories, where he could become anyone do anything and finally have a family.
This went on for several years, with every year becoming more and more inmersed, in consequence becoming more alienated from his peers. Until one day, he was called from the directors office, knowing not to ask and not to ignore he went straight there, he knew it wasnt about adoption, there was no way to be adopted, he was an outcast and as an outcast the people that came to adopt saw him as such.
He knocked the door as he knew he should, a deep voice urged him to enter, it was the voice of the director that ruled the facility with iron rules that mustn't be broken, if you did… its better if you didn't so you did not need to find out.
At this point the shadows become images, the images become reality and I am standing in the office,
“Hello Adam, I'm glad you came” Said the director, a shiver run down my spine, I have never dream of this, I don't remember a single dream, I only remember the thing after waking up in the tomb, but I intuitively know, I should be afraid.
I try closing my eyes, but I cant Im just a doll that moves by itself.
“There’s someone here to see you” At this point I start trembling, my teeth chattering, my breath becoming erratic, I know what is going to happen, don't ask me why I just do.
The woman turns her head along her body from the chair she is sitting in.
She is a beautiful woman, with a warm-hearted look, but I can't stop the cry from my throat neither the tears falling from my face.
She smiles at me, but I know better, that is not a true smile, even Mr creepiness smile could be considered normal compared to this one.
“Hi Adam” She says nonchalantly oblivious to what's going trough my mind.
At that point it all becomes black I try opening my eyes without stopping the scream; a bony hand falls on my head, patting my hair as to calm me down. After several minutes of sobbing I do and fall asleep again.